by Jamie Conner
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
St. Amelia's Kiss
By
Jamie Conner
Copyright ©2017 by Jamie Conner
Find out more at:
www.jamieconnerbooks.wordpress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Prologue
Megan Garrett half-heartedly scribbled notes in her notebook while Mrs. Carmichael droned on making even the exciting parts of world history dry and dull.
"Henry VII's army defeated Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth on August 22, 1485," she said in a robotic tone.
Megan giggled to herself as she watched the heads of several students around her bobbing up and down like plastic sports toys or resting chin to chest while their hands held their pencils upright as if they were still taking notes. But Megan wasn't bored for the same reason as her classmates. She actually found history really fascinating. It was just that she'd already studied the English Tudor period at the school she'd just transferred from two months ago.
Megan continued to look around the room at the strange faces. It hadn't been easy starting a new school in the middle of the Spring semester of her sophomore year. She wasn't what anyone would have called popular at her old school, but at least there she didn't feel so out of place.
The kids at Eastwood were mostly sons and daughters of wealthy politicians, entertainers, and fortune 500 business leaders. Their lives were a far cry from Megan's simple Michigan upbringing. The constant chatter about new cars, expensive clothes, and family vacations in foreign places completely unnerved Megan. In addition to all that, she was shy about making new friends because there was a secret she'd been wrestling with that she hadn't even shared with anyone back home. She was gay.
The bell rang signaling the end of the class period and slumbering bodies sprang to life and headed out the door. Megan slowly placed her notebook into her book bag. She wasn't in any hurry. Unlike most of the other Eastwood students, she didn't have a car or a driver waiting to take her home. Megan rode the public bus and the one she caught to go home wouldn't pass the school for another half hour.
"Ms. Garrett," Mrs. Carmichael's monotone voice called out.
She insisted on calling the students by their last names according to some old school tradition that had long since been abandoned by the rest of the faculty.
Megan swung her book bag over her shoulder and walked toward her teacher's desk.
"I'm glad you're still here," Mrs. Carmichael continued. "I'd like to speak with you about something."
Megan waited politely for her to continue.
"I'm sure you're aware that this class is the second in a year-long world history curriculum."
Megan just nodded opting for the preferred non-verbal communication most teenagers used when dealing with adults.
"At the beginning of the school year, the students selected partners for their first and second semester projects."
Megan kept her expression blank, but inside she was hoping that Mrs. Carmichael was about to give her permission to complete her project alone. She hated group assignments and certainly didn't want to be added to an existing pair and feel like a third wheel.
"Since you don't have a partner I'd like to pair you with a student who took this class previously but didn't do very well."
Great. Not only did Megan's hope of working alone vanish, but she was about to be teamed up with a student who was a slacker.
"There's a young lady who took my class two years ago, she's a senior now, but…" Mrs. Carmichael paused and pressed her hand to her mouth as if it pained her to speak the next words. "… when she was a sophomore her mother became ill. Cancer," Mrs. Carmichael whispered. "Naturally this student didn't do too well in her classes that semester."
Mrs. Carmichael shook her head as if trying to dislodge the awful memory.
"She's doing much better now. And she's already decided to take a gap year before going to college so she'll have some time to get her applications in proper order. Principal Stewart and I have decided to let her make up some of the assignments she missed and thereby improve her grades. We didn't think it was fair for her academic career to be put in jeopardy because of a family challenge that was out of her control."
Megan blinked trying to hold back the tears she felt at the thought of what life would be like without her own mother. She didn't know who this student was, but she certainly felt sorry for her.
"Since you seem to have a strong grasp of World History I thought the two of you could be partners. You probably already know her. Her name is Brandi Turner."
Megan didn't know Brandi personally, but she'd heard her name mentioned quite a bit. Brandi was one of the popular kids who was most often talked about with the god-like reverence, admiration and or jealousy that governed most of high school life. In Megan's mind, she was just another one of the numerous spoiled socialites that populated the school.
"I haven't met her," Megan said without commentary.
"Oh good!" Mrs. Carmichael said with clueless adult optimism. "This will be an opportunity for you to make a new friend!"
Megan managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Right," she said keeping her sarcasm hidden.
"Here's Brandi's phone number." Mrs. Carmichael handed Megan a slip of paper. "Please give her a call and introduce yourself. I've already shared my plan with her and she's enthusiastically waiting to hear from you."
Megan looked down at the slip of paper. She was pretty sure the enthusiasm was all Mrs. Carmichael's, but she smiled anyway.
"Thanks," Megan mumbled. Thanks a lot.
***
Megan hadn't gone to the Friday night football game, but she was pretty sure Brandi had — isn't that what popular girls do? She waited until Saturday afternoon before trying Brandi's number.
"Hello." The voice on the other end of the phone sounded half asleep in spite of the loud music playing in the background.
"Hi, may I please speak with Brandi?" Megan said, practically yelling into the phone.
The volume of Kelly Clarkson's voice singing Dirty Little Secret lessened.
"This is Brandi."
"Hi Brandi, this is Megan Garrett."
There was no response on the other end.
"I'm a student at Eastwood. Mrs. Carmichael gave me your number."
Megan heard a long sigh.
"Oh, yeah. Hey," was her only response.
"Well, I was just calling to see if you wanted to talk about the World History project."
"Sure, I guess. Look I'm just waking up. Can we maybe meet later today
to talk about it? I could come to your house or you could come over here, whatever."
Megan's stomach dropped at the thought of Brandi coming to the small apartment she shared with her mother. The place wasn't bad. In fact, it was pretty nice for what Megan's mom could afford on her retail salary, but Megan still didn't feel comfortable inviting someone like Brandi over.
"Uh, meeting at your place would be cool," Megan said trying to keep her voice calm.
"Okay, I'll text you the address. How about 3 o'clock?"
"Yeah, that works. I'll see you then."
Megan hung up the phone and waited for Brandi's text message. Just as she'd suspected, Brandi lived in an expensive part of town not too far from Eastwood. She'd probably never even been near Megan's neighborhood.
Megan sent a quick text message to her mom asking if she could use her car to go to a study session with a friend. She could easily take the bus to the mall, grab her mom's car and then pick her mom up later when she got off work.
Sure thing, Sweetheart, was the response.
***
At 2:55 Megan walked past the two stone lions guarding the door to a house bigger than she'd ever seen up close. She pushed the door bell and a deep resonant chime bellowed from somewhere inside. A moment later a girl about her age opened the door.
"Hey." she greeted nonchalantly. "I'm Brandi. I guess you're Megan."
"Yep, that's me," Megan said trying to keep her voice from cracking. She felt an irritating wave of nervousness. Not only was the grandiose house intimidating, but there was something about looking into Brandi's green eyes that made Megan's toes tingle. She wasn't prepared for Brandi to be so attractive.
Her dark brown hair was almost the same color as Megan's, but it was cut in a much more sophisticated style. Brandi was wearing a pair of cut-off jean short shorts and a tank top both of which showed off her tan and toned body. Megan didn't recall hearing about Brandi participating in any sports activities, but clearly, she kept in great shape.
Megan didn't want to keep staring at Brandi so she diverted her attention to the house. Of course, that didn't really ease her anxiety.
She tilted her head upward and was amazed by the huge chandelier hanging above her head. Paintings — that were taller than Megan — lined the walls and the marble floors looked like something out of a European cathedral.
The whole thing made Megan feel like she'd stepped onto the set of a movie.
"Come on upstairs," Brandi said tilting her head toward one side of the double staircase that flanked the entryway. "We can talk in my room."
They'd made it about halfway up the stairs when a female voice called out from somewhere down below.
"Brandi, who was that at the door?"
Brandi rolled her eyes and sighed.
"It was for me," she shouted over the staircase banister. There was a distinctly annoyed tone to her voice.
"Okay. Just checking," came the response. "I'm expecting a package."
"Big surprise," Brandi mumbled and continued up the stairs.
Megan was just about to follow Brandi when a surprisingly young blonde woman appeared in the entryway below them.
"Well, hello there," she said smiling up at Megan. "I'm Pam, Brandi's stepmom."
Megan barely got the word hello out before Brandi reached back and grabbed her arm.
"We've got homework to do," she said directing her voice downward without looking at the woman.
She pulled Megan the rest of the way up the stairs clearly not intending to have any further conversation with her stepmom.
"I'm expecting a package," Brandi repeated in a mocking tone as soon as the two of them reached her room. "I wonder how much of my father's money she's spent today."
The coldness in Brandi's tone caused Megan to flinch. Whatever was going on inside this house obviously wasn't as picture perfect as the outside.
"Sorry about that," Brandi said as she plopped down onto one of two large bean bags facing a flat screen TV in the corner of a room.
Megan tried not to gawk, but the room was large enough to fit Megan's whole apartment inside.
Brandi pointed and waved for Megan to have a seat. "They just irritate me — my father and that woman he married after…" Brandi's voice trailed off without finishing her thought. "So, World History, huh?" Brandi said changing the subject. "Pretty boring stuff. I'm sure you've been getting some good sleep in during Carmichael's class."
"Yeah," Megan agreed just to keep the conversation easy. "She's pretty dull compared to the history teacher at my old school."
The expression on Brandi's face made it clear that she didn't think any teacher could make history interesting.
"Oh yeah, that's right. You just transferred to Eastwood. Where are you from again?"
"Grand Rapids, Michigan," Megan answered.
"That's cool," Brandi said nonchalantly, but her tone seemed to indicate that she thought Grand Rapids sounded as boring as studying history. "So, what do we have to do for this project?"
"I guess the first thing is to pick a country to focus on," Megan answered.
Megan shifted trying to find a comfortable spot on the bean bag, but she kept sinking down into the middle. Her legs flailed in the air and she felt like a turtle laying on its back.
"Hmm." Brandi reached to the floor and picked up the iPad at her feet. After a few swipes she opened the Google Earth app and the image of the globe appeared on the large flat screen in front of them. "Let's see," she said spinning the world around with her finger. "Japan is cool. I love sushi. Don't you?"
Fortunately, she didn't wait for Megan to answer.
"England is boring. Too rainy and sad and the Queen is old. Greece is absolutely beautiful and the guys are hot!" Brandi said excitedly.
Megan was hesitant to offer an opinion since Brandi seemed to be speaking from her own travel experiences and Megan had never even been out of the country before. But, there was someplace she was interested in.
"What about France?" Megan finally offered.
"France is cool," Brandi said with less enthusiasm than Greece, but more than England. "The food is good and of course the clothes are to die for! I think I have some video from last year's Paris Fashion Week."
Brandi tapped at the iPad screen again and images of pencil thin models popped onto the screen. They were walking around in outfits that to Megan looked more like Halloween costumes than clothes for real people.
"Umm. That's great, but I think we'll have to focus on something other than food and fashion shows."
Brandi looked at her with a slight frown.
"I just mean," Megan said quickly. "I think the goal is to focus on historical figures or major events."
"Right," Brandi muttered. "The boring stuff." She thumped the iPad and the images disappeared. "What makes you so interested in France anyway?"
Megan hesitated for a moment.
"My favorite author lives in France. Her name is Rachel Durand."
Brandi just shrugged her shoulders. "Never heard of her."
Megan felt a twinge of disappointment — but not surprise. It wasn't like Rachel Durand was on any current best seller's lists. Her historical fiction novels had been published by a small independent press starting in the late 1970's and the last book she wrote was published in 1996. Judging from the paperback Y.A. novels Megan saw scattered on the floor near Brandi's bed Brandi's reading tastes were a bit more contemporary.
Megan had been introduced to Rachel Durand's books in one of the LGBTQ chat rooms she'd joined when she first started questioning her sexual orientation. A bunch of the chatroom regulars said Durand's books were a must have for any young lesbian trying to find her way in the world. Megan ordered all of the books she could find on Amazon — grateful that the packages came in discreet brown envelopes that her mother wouldn't question.
"What about focusing on famous women from France," Brandi said interrupting Megan's musings. "We could do a timeline from 1400 A.D. the present that way we c
ould even include some significant fashion designers. I mean you can't really talk about French history without mentioning Coco Chanel."
Megan wasn't so sure about that, but if including a fashion icon or two was what was needed to keep Brandi excited about the project then that's what they'd do.
"Let's make a list of important women and then maybe choose the top ten to include in our report," Megan suggested.
Megan pulled out her cell phone and the two of them searched the web for interesting names.
An hour later they'd selected a list of women beginning with Joan of Arc and ending with France's first female Prime Minister, Edith Cresson.
"Maybe this won't be as boring as I thought," Brandi said with a smile that made Megan's heart flutter slightly.
"Yeah, maybe it won't."
***
For the next three weeks, Megan and Brandi met at Brandi's house to work on their report. Megan would show up about 1 pm, they'd work on the report for a couple hours and then order pizza and sometimes watch a movie. Their weekend meetings had an almost clandestine air to them since the two girls rarely saw each other at school. Their senior vs. sophomore class schedule kept them going in opposite directions most of the time and even when they did see each other the communication between them was usually nothing more than a nod as they passed in the halls. But in spite of their seeming distance at school, there was a certain closeness forming between the two of them.
Megan still thought Brandi was a bit spoiled. She didn't have any of the normal teenage responsibilities that Megan had, no washing clothes, no doing the dishes after meals and certainly no taking out the trash. Instead, Brandi's life seemed to be filled with shopping excursions, parties at the members-only club her family belonged to and a seemingly endless preoccupation with what her real friends thought of her. But in spite of those flaws, Brandi was a pretty nice person when she was alone with Megan.
